Tales Of The Fallen
by Strangerine
Summary: A collection of stories about characters in The Walking Dead. Contains two older fics of mine, "Kenny," and "Meet Jaime." Cover Art belongs to lord-phillock @ DeviantArt.
1. Rebecca

It'd been so much easier if he'd raped her.

If he'd come into her bedroom late at night, if he'd snatched her off the street and forced her up against the wall, if he'd stolen and bound her, taken her against her will, it would have been easy. She could have told Alvin, told anyone. If he had hurt her, Rebecca would have had no problem hurting him back.

The problem was he hadn't...not quite. She'd...she'd _liked_ it. She'd liked _him_. She loved Alvin, with all her heart and soul, but when Carver came up, his eyes so intense, his voice so low and seductive...it had made her melt. Her, Rebecca, loving wife and friend, the black girl with big curls and a sharp temper...Carver had liked _her_. And the way he spoke, _god,_ the way he spoke. Quoting all manner of old literature, telling her stories, singing soft and soothing melodies...

The way he'd wrap his arms around her, pressing her against him and burying her face in her neck, the bristles of his beard scratching against her sensitive skin, his voice hot against her ear...he had ruined her. It was those days, back when Luke had first started getting antsy, back when rumors of dissent had been just that, rumors, and Carver hadn't shown his true colors, not yet. Back when he was still their ever-distant leader, the one so few truly knew yet so many trusted completely. She knew he'd lost a wife, and no one ever dared to press further, but she remembered lying on his chest in the crook of his arm, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and lulling her to sleep, and she felt so _lucky,_ like he'd chosen her and she should be _grateful_.

It was back in those days her and Alvin used to fight, used to argue often, mostly with her initiating and when Alvin never wanted to rise to her bait it would infuriate her. Alvin was so kind, so gentle, and Rebecca had wanted someone...someone more. Someone she could yell at, argue with, someone who'd be so angry with her the fury would turn to lust and then all her wildest fantasies would come true. It had only been...what, a year ago now? Yet she felt so much older. Now all Rebecca wanted was someone calm, and sweet. Someone who understood her, who'd soothe her in her misery, who'd bring light into a life that felt so dark nowadays. Gee, it almost sounded like she missed Alvin. Who'da thunk?

Even in her own head, her voice was bitter. But it didn't matter now. Alvin was gone, and Carver too, so there was no point.

Back to the memories.

When it first began, it'd been so innocent. It'd been loitering around when she'd be with her friends, because back then she'd had such things. A look here, a soft murmur there. Enough to send shivers down her spine, enough to intrigue her. He'd reeled her in enough to make her bold. Late at night, she'd stop by his office with a cup of coffee and a shy smile, like a fucking secretary sucking up to the boss. And he'd smile at her. A small, controlled expression. She did that every night he stayed late, and it became such a habit, she felt guilty when she forgot. Then it got to the point where Carver would call her in to his office, for no real reason at all, just because "he'd missed her."

To this day, Rebecca wonders if any of it had been real.

Why would he have done it if it wasn't? Did she remind him of his wife? Of a first girlfriend? Did he, at one point, really care about her? Then, another thought, more dangerous than the others, occurs to her; maybe he'd never stopped caring. For a long time, she thought he'd manipulated her for the purpose of fucking her, of using her, then got possessive when she didn't want him any more. But the possibility existed that he did genuinely love her, at least how a man like him could love someone. Perhaps he'd thought being kind to her made him a kind person. Perhaps he thought having one, unbroken thing in his life that he could worship meant he was not evil.

Then that unbroken thing shattered, and well...the rest is history.

Talking to Bonnie, after they'd escaped Carver's compound for the second time, revealed Carver had gotten even worse after she and the others had escaped. That the man who'd once been controlling, cold, and occasionally questionable, went to madness. From betrayal, yes. Betrayal of his flock, of his family, and of the woman he had cared for. And he'd believed, firmly, that the child was his. After he'd taken her, wrapped her around his finger and convinced her their "love" was okay despite her marriage to Alvin, he'd shown hints of who he was.

She remembered an argument they'd had. She'd realized she was pregnant shortly after she'd attempted to cut it off with him, after she'd known him long enough to understand there was more to him, none of it good, than first met the eye. That morning, she and Alvin had announced her pregnancy, and she'd noticed Carver watching her intensely from the back. He'd come up to the front of the group, his eyes cold and a wide, false smile on his face. He congratulated them on their conception, all the while with one burning hand on her lower back and ice in his gaze. He'd summoned her to his office that night, the curtains closed and the room illuminated with a dim electric light hanging from the ceiling.

" _It is my child, Rebecca_ _, you know this. You belong to me, and so does that baby. I know I've fucked you more than your husband, and the odds of that man being the father of your baby are nigh impossible. Rebecca-"_

 _"Don't you fucking talk to me like that, Carver. It's not your baby, if I had my choice I would never have even looked at you. You are fucking despicable. I don't give a god-damn-shit what you think, what you think you're entitled to. Alvin is my husband, and he always will-"_

Then he'd moved, so fast she cried out, throwing up her hands to block her head. Then, after a moment, she opened her eyes. His hand, an inch away from her face, frozen still. And his eyes, so full of rage and murder that it made her sick with terror. A second passed like this, then his hand had retracted, and his icy gaze returned, any desire for murder hidden away inside him.

 _"A man should not strike the mother of his child, despite how...difficult she is being. It might hurt my baby,"_ he said, putting emphasis on my, " _and we can't have that. And you might not care what I think, but I understand now how much you apparently value the opinion of your husband."_ He spat out the word husband like it made him sick. The unspoken threat hung heavy in the room.

Disobey me, and I tell Alvin about our affair.

Maybe, Rebecca muses, Alvin Junior bundled in her arms, if she'd just gone ahead and told Alvin things would have been different. But "maybe" is a dangerous word, and what's done is done in any case. No, she hadn't been thinking clearly, only stood in terror for herself and her child. Most of her pregnancy had been fraught with panic and terror. Each day she stared at herself in the mirror, watching her ever-growing belly, and silently praying it was Alvin's child.

And, looking down at the brown baby nestled in the crook of her arm, perhaps it was. The thought brought a smile to Rebecca's face.

Several months later, Luke finally orchestrated their escape, and then they'd run, deep into the forest and into the cold. That, of course, she'd lived too recently that she needed to recount. No, now she just felt...so terribly weary. She still felt so sore after giving birth, merely hours ago. Her skin was warm and flushed, though her breath made white clouds in the air. Clementine lay snuggled beside her, and Kenny, snoring just feet away. The others lay scattered around the room in various resting positions. Some lay sprawled out across the floor, others in tight little balls. Clementine made herself very small when she slept.

Morning would come soon. Rebecca needed to rest. Who knew when she'd get to sleep next?

* * *

 **Yes, I realise this is rather run-on, with no clear beginning, middle and end. But I kind of intended it to be that way? I wanted to write a chapter about Rebecca, and the idea of her recounting her relationship with Carver meant it would feel very casual and personal, so I just...sat down and wrote it. I didn't edit it very much, and that might show, but I wanted to to just be a disjointed collection of thoughts, memories, hopes and regrets. And of course, I couldn't resist making the last sentence endlessly depressing.**

 **Now, I don't know who all I want to write about next, so if you have a request feel free to put it in a review. Just tell me the character and the scene you'd like, and who knows? Maybe I'll write the chapter about them. I hope you enjoyed this. :)**


	2. Kenny

Kenny felt Jane's arms start to give. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he thrust the knife down between them, blood thundering in his ears as his heart raced. He no longer felt the snow falling around them. He knew only his fury and the woman lying under him. He didn't see the fear in Jane's eyes, didn't hear Clementine screaming his name a few feet away. One thought filled his mind, feeding him and fueling his rage. _She killed the baby._ Rebecca's baby. _His_ baby. Baby-killer. She deserved to die. Everyone did. Everyone, for letting him suffer and hating him, fearing him even while everything he loved was torn away from him, over and over again.

He felt Jane's grip weaken. Any moment now, any moment...

A single gunshot rang out, and Kenny's jaw dropped as he jerked backward, the bullet slamming into his chest. He dropped the knife and fell to his side. He felt the blood dripping from the wound and darkness crept at the corners of his vision. His eyes, already damaged from Jane's gouging, fell shut. Through the sound of his heartbeat roaring in his ears, he heard Clementine whimper to Jane, asking if she was all right. He didn't hear Jane's reply.

As the blood turned the frost under his head red and damp, he felt Clementine kneel beside him. "Clem," he murmured, knowing he had limited time left to speak. He forced his remaining eye open and looked at the girl, who wore streams of tears on her cheeks. He smiled softly. "You made the right choice. I let you down..." He paused to cough. "I let everyone down..."

"Why did you make me do this?" Clem whispered, her young voice choked.

"I'm sorry, Clementine. We almost made it..." the older man lifted his head to smile at the little girl. "We were close, weren't we?" His smile faded. "I thought I wanted this...asked for it...so many times...now that it's happening," his eyes widened, "...I'm scared. I'm afraid, Clem."

"It's okay, Kenny," Clem said, placing her small palm in his larger, colder one. "You're...you're going to see Katjaa and Duck. You're going to see them again."

The man let out a final, relieved sigh. "You're always good for a smile." And then, holding Clem's hand in his, Kenny died.

* * *

Truth is, Kenny was never the kind of man to lay down and accept his fate. When civilization collapsed, many people died, through weakness, or suicide, or starvation. But not Kenny.

The Floridian took his wife and child across the country and found a group to call his own. He wanted to be safe with the ones he loved, wanted to fight like a warrior of old for what he believed in. But a piece of him died with Katjaa and Duck, all those years ago. He left his heart with their bodies, and while he lived, his soul felt no different from a walkers.

And he wanted to die. Desperately. He craved it, wept for it, wanted to join his family in the world beyond. But the man he was kept him from taking his own life. And when that boy, Ben, got himself stuck during that last run from walkers, Kenny thought it would be his way out. He wanted to die for people he cared about, wanted to die a hero and be remembered for his sacrifice.

But he didn't die. He gave his all, shooting and screaming and running like mad, and he didn't die. He kept running, all on his own, growing angrier and more reckless every day, in the hope that maybe someone would be scared enough to kill him. That someone would give him the release he craved.

These thoughts were never conscious, no. They lingered in the back of his mind, guiding his actions and his hatred. Eventually he found his way up north, found a group. Found Sarita. He wanted to love Sarita, to try to fill the gaping hole in his life. And it worked; almost. He forced himself to smile, and told himself he was happy. Even though he knew it was a lie.

But then Clem showed up. Clem, a symbol for all he had lost, now coming home to him. He wanted to take her for his own, make her his daughter and try to rebuild the group they had. Clem meant Lee, Katjaa, Duck, everything that had been good and kind in the world. And Kenny wanted her to care for him so much it hurt.

Then Carver came. And the old anger came back, the old fire as his world came crashing down once again, making him kick and scream against the change. He saw the way Clem talked to Luke, to Jane, saw them filling her head with their lies. He saw the way the other members of the group started to shy away from him. Luke and Jane meant change, and they threatened to take Clem away. So he hated them.

And slowly, everyone started either dying or betraying them. Luke, Arvo, Mike, Bonny...they all left him behind. Left him alone with AJ and Clem.

AJ. New life. A son, like the son he had lost. Between AJ and Clem, Kenny could start over. Run away, have the family he always wanted, with no one else in the way. But Jane kept fighting him. Jane was the one person who had survived, who had beaten all odds and always opposed him. And then she killed a child.

Kenny couldn't have known, then, that AJ was still alive. But there, he snapped. The hatred building up inside of him, let out slowly over the years, took over his mind and turned him to madness. He fought Jane, fully intending to kill or be killed, because she dared to destroy his dream of peace and family.

But Clem stopped him. The sweet, innocent little girl he knew all those years ago, now stripped of her childhood and forced to become an adult in a world of monsters. Poor, beautiful Clem. But she'd given him what he wanted. She dared to do what others would not and let him have peace.

And as he died, he thanked her for that. Maybe he could have done things differently, maybe he could have saved Katjaa and Duck, maybe he didn't have to become the monster he did, but one thing was sure in his mind. His last thought, the one idea he'd kept close all these years.

Kenny was a fighter.

* * *

 **This is actually a fic that I wrote a while back, as is the next one, and because I wanted to do a series of these, I figured it was impractical to release a whole bunch of tiny fics. I'd much rather condense everything into a nice long fic. I wrote this almost immediately after the game ended, because I felt like there was so much to Kenny that needed to be said. I felt like he'd been a very good person at one point, just in the wrong situation with the wrong people. Or perhaps with _out_ the right people, if you catch my drift. Ha. I made myself sad.**

 **But anyway, thanks so much for reading, and if there's a character or scene you'd like to see, put it in a review and you might just see it get posted. I hope you enjoyed. :)**


	3. Jane

"Here, Jane," her father says. "Meet Jaime. Your sister."

The little girl steps forward, her eyes wide as she takes the small squirming bundle into her arms. The creature wiggles in the blankets, making Jane gasp as a wrinkly face writhes into sight. The girl has big brown eyes, and a fuzzy tuft of hair upon her head. Jaime looks at her sister and begins to wail.

Jane jerks away. "She doesn't like me," she announces.

Her father quickly returns the infant to her mother. "Of course she does," Father assures Jane. "She's just hungry, is all."

True enough, once Jaime is returned to her mother's arms and allowed to feed, she calms. Jane slowly crawls up on the hospital bed beside her mother, letting her fingers brush her sister's velvety-soft cheek. "She's so tiny," the older sister murmurs.

"She is," Mother says, and her smile is tired. She tries to look pleased, for her family's sake, but worry lingers in her gaze, in the concerned wrinkles beside her eyes. Jane is too young to really understand what happened, then, but she knows her sister is much smaller than most babies. "You'll have to take care of her, Jane," Mom whispers.

Jane lets Jaime grab her fingers and chew on them. A small smile spreads across the little girl's lips. "I will," she whispers. "I will."

* * *

They're older, now. "Jaaaaaane," Jaime whines, tugging on her sister's sleeve as they walk through the amusement park. "I gotta go _pee_."

"Shut up, Jaime," Jane hisses. She turns back to her friends, who are all giggling and talking among themselves. They're not really her friends, but they're the closest she has to some. Jane is not the most social of creatures. She groans when she feels Jaime tug on her sleeve again. She turns to argue with her sister when one of the other girls points and speaks.

"Look!" The girl exclaims. "A rollercoaster! We _have_ to ride it."

"Um, okay," is Jane's unenthusiastic reply, but she is drowned out by the eager babbling of her other companions. As the rest of the group races after the rollercoaster, Jane grabs her sister by the hand and drags her along. When they reach the rollercoaster, it is discovered that Jaime is just a hair too small to ride.

Jane looks from her kid sister to her so-called friends and back. "Look," she commands, "just stay here until the rides over. I'll be right back."

Jaime opens her mouth to protest but by then the older sibling is gone, having vanished into the throng of people in the amusement park.

The line is long and boring. Jane gets tired of listening to the other girls talk about movies she hasn't seen, actors and actresses she doesn't care about, and books she's never read. Now, she questions her logic of some bad friends being better than no friends at all. As she ponders this, she makes sure to keep an eye on Jaime standing just outside the current of people, maintaining eye contact as the line gets shorter and shorter.

Eventually, Jane and the other girls get to go on the ride, and Jane has to lose sight of Jaime for a minute. They go on the mediocre ride, with no real drops or surprises even, but the others seem to enjoy it. After a cold spray of water at the end, the group dismounts the ride, soaking wet. Jane steps away from the others to go find her sister.

She isn't there.

Jane freezes. "Jaime?" she calls. Then her voice turns to panic. " _Jaime!_ "

She starts racing around the park, looking everywhere, shouting her name. Tears are running down her cheeks as fear and worry overtakes her. Her whole body is trembling, her heart pounding, and she can barely see through the mist that covers her eyes.

After what feels like an eternity, Jane finds a blond little girl leaving one of the port-o-potty sections of the park, a cramped and crowded place. The older girl lets out a cry and runs to her sister's side. "Don't you ever do that again," Jane yells, her voice raw and hoarse. The scream isn't one of anger, but of absolute terror. Jaime stands there, letting Jane hug her and sob all over her. "Never again."

* * *

They're teenagers, now. Jane is finishing up highschool, getting herself ready for college. And Jaime has just recently discovered boys. Her boyfriend is young, handsome, some sort of sports player. Too lean for football, but maybe hockey or soccer. Honestly, Jane's never asked.

When she protested her sister dating so young, Jaime just gave the snarky reply of, "Just because you're a virgin doesn't mean nobody else can have any fun, Jane." The older girl could have argued that point, but she felt doing so would just make her look ridiculous. So she stays out of her sister's love life.

Which is why it's so surprising when Jaime bursts into her room, her face red and tearful. "J-Jane," she sputters, "Oh my god. J-Jane..." She throws herself into her shocked sister's arms, sobbing into her chest.

"What?" Jane asks, pulling her upright and meeting her eyes. "What's happened? Who died?"

"My bf..." Jane is too preoccupied with Jaime's tears to be irritated by the shorthand. "...he _cheated_ on me. I found him with another girl, a-and..."

That's all Jane needs to hear. She swallows, her eyes becoming hard and determined. She kisses her sister's forehead and gets her a glass of ice water. "I've got to go," she says, her voice dangerous. "I'll be back soon."

The next day, Jaime's ex-boyfriend comes to school with a bruised jaw and a fear in his eyes. Jaime is shocked when he apologises to her and informs the whole school that he cheated on her. As he addresses his class before the teacher comes in, telling them in graphic detail about he broke Jaime's heart, he keeps glancing towards the windows at the far wall of the classroom, as if he's scared of something watching him.

And out of the corner of her eye, Jaime sees Jane in the window.

* * *

"Jane," Jamie asks, her voice shaking. "Where are we going? Where's Mom? Dad?"

Jane keeps her voice steady when she replies. "Just stay close, Jaime. Don't go anywhere without me."

"But, Jane-"

"Jaime, be quiet."

"Jane-"

" _Jaime._ "

"Jane, I'm _scared._ "

This sets the older woman off. "And you think I'm not?" she shouts, turning to look at her sister with madness in her eyes. "Mom and Dad are fucking dead, Jaime. Everyone is, now. You think I'm not scared? 'Cause I'm fucking scared. I'm scared fucking shitless. I was supposed to be in class, Jaime. I'm supposed to be earning my credits right fucking now, but instead I'm running from weird-ass fucking undead people that used to be my family and friends. And if you don't want to be one too, you'll fucking stop acting like a whiny little bitch baby and get your shit together. You're seventeen, Jaime. Buck the fuck up." Her passionate tirade is interrupted when three walkers emerge from the woods to their side. Jaime screams, but Jane just grabs her wrists and forces her to run alongside her. "Just run!" Jane cries. "And don't look back!"

* * *

The older sister grunts as she pushes a dresser forward, bracing the front door of the house. "Jaime!" she screams, her voice raw with panic as more undead push themselves against the windows, making the glass crack. Jaime is lying on the floor in the living room, her eyes shut. " _Jaime!"_

"I'm done, Jane," Jaime whispers, her eyes still not open. "I want to die. Let them take me."

"I'm not letting them eat you," the older sister sobs. "Come on! We've got enough time; we can get out of here!"

"No."

Jane is crying, violently now. "I won't let them eat you!" she screams against, screaming into Jaime's ear in the hope it'll draw a reaction. She buries her face in her sister's neck, letting her tears dampen the skin there. "Please get up," she pleads. "Please run."

"No."

Jane sobs again, the sounds of the undead filling her ears as she pulls her sister's arms over her shoulders and drags her towards the back door of the house, where hopefully they will have enough time to jump the yard fence and make for the woods. Jane keeps crying, screaming and yelling and pulling Jaime across the floor. She hears the wood of the front door splinter.

"Jane, just leave me. Save yourself."

" _No!"_ Jane screams. She drops her sister and throws a nearby book, breaking the window at the back of the house. She grabs her sister's hand. She can't get her through the window on her own, and she knows that. "Jaime, get up. Please, get up. Get up, get up, get up, get up, get _up. Please._ "

"No, Jane."

Jane lets out another animalistic cry and shakes her sister's shoulders. "Jaime! Get up!" She shakes her sister, grabs her, yanks her, slaps her. Finally, she punches her, crushing the bone of her sister's nose under her fist. Jaime doesn't react, her expression one of peace and relaxation even as blood dribbles down her cheek. Jane sobs.

"Goodbye, Jane," Jaime whispers, and now she's smiling.

Jane screams without words. She swallows through her dry throat, and turns to see a walker no less than three feet away from her. It's die together, or live alone. Jane screams again. She kisses her sister's forehead and vaults through the window, jumping the fence with ease and running into the woods.

* * *

"Hello?"

Jane is torn from her thoughts by a little girl's voice. Her heart skips a beat and she turns to see a little girl wearing a baseball cap staring at her. She scowls and the little girl backs away, going off to talk to one of the others.

Jane sighs and leans back against her bed. She can't control when the memories come back. Sometimes all it takes is a smell, a touch, a smile, and then her feels her heart shattering into a thousand pieces all over again.

But sometimes...sometimes she needs to remember.

 _"Here, Jane," her father says. "Meet Jaime. Your sister."_

* * *

 **So, this is my other fic that I wrote before condensing them into this one. I edited it slightly, cutting out some bits and improving others. I noticed** **I seem to have a thing for sisters, with a stoic older sister and an emotionally vulnerable younger sister. We're going to pretend this is not because that's actually my life.** **In all seriousness though, I think this is part of why I emphasize with Jane so much. I love my younger sister more than almost anything else, and the idea of losing her the way Jane did, might break me in much the same way. So this fic breaks my heart.**

 **But as always: If you enjoyed this and have a particular person or scene you'd like be to write about, post it in a review and I might post it in a chapter. I hope you enjoyed. :)**


	4. Lee

_"Lee David Everett!"_

The young black boy jerked, dropping his action figures. The transformers got thrown into a drawer, the ninja turtles hidden under his father's desk. "Coming, ma!" Lee dashing out of the office, throwing on his apron and running into the pharmacy to his mother's side.

"Didn't I tell you to go help your father unload those delivery crates?" Mrs. Everett demanded, raising a thin, intimidating eyebrow.

"...Yes mama."

"And did you?"

"...No, mama."

Two fingers darted through the air, clamping down on Lee's ear and eliciting a yelp from the young boy's lips. Even with a child growing in her belly, Faye Everett still had reflexes quick as a whip. "Lee, go do what I told you or I'll give you something to cry about, you hear me, boy?" Lee nodded, brown eyes wide. Faye released his ear, ruffling her sons thick, dark hair. "Now, get."

Lee sprinted to the back of the shop, the unloading bay where unopened crates awaited him. With a sigh, the seven year old picked up a crowbar and started unboxing all the crates, using his meager weight to pop open the top of the boxes. After half an hour of intense work, Lee heard the sounds of his father returning from the bank. "Where's Lee?"

"In here, daddy!" Lee called, wiping the sweat from his brow. Malcolm Everett came into the unboxing room, a toothy smile on his round, dark face.

"There's my boy," he grinned, and swept the boy off his feet, enveloping the child in a hug. "What is the birthday boy doin' all the way back here?"

Lee giggled. "It isn't my birthday yet, daddy."

Malcolm nodded sagely. "Oh, you're right. It's not. It's your birthday _eve_ , I see. How old are you turning tomorrow?"

The boy squirmed indignantly in his father's arms. "Daddy! Don't you know how old I am?"

"Mm...'fraid it slipped my mind, little man. Mind helping your old man remember?" Malcolm grinned, lean fingers reaching up to tickle the boy.

Lee raised his chin, folding his arms. "Tomorrow I'm gonna be eight years old."

The older man, still carrying his son, carried Lee out of the unloading bay and down the hall, heading towards the pharmacy. His face twisted into mock shock. "Eight years old! Well, I'll be. I guess it's time you move out on your own. Once you turn eight...might as well be a grown-up."

Lee laughed. "Daddy, I'm not a grown-up yet."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Oh. My mistake then." Malcolm planted a big kiss on his son's cheek, making Lee squirm and yelp, trying to rub the spit off his cheek, to the entertainment of his father. The pair arrived at the pharmacy, where Lee returned to the ground and the senior Everett gave his wife an intimate kiss. "Faye, my darling, should you really be on your feet so much?"

The woman smiled. "Malcolm, I'm only a few months along. I ain't disabled; just pregnant."

Malcolm gave his wife another kiss. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. Now, tell me - why would you send out my only child thus far to go unbox crates on the day before his birthday?"

Still smiling, Faye glanced at her son. "Because regardless of birthday or no, you should always do what your mama tells you."

Malcolm stroked the stubble on his chin, before turning to Lee with a sympathetic expression. "I'm afraid that's true, my boy. You should always listen to your mama."

"But what about my daddy?" Lee questions, crossing his arms. "Should I listen to him?"

The older man glanced at his wife, who watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. "Well..." Malcolm leaned down to his son, but whispered loud enough his wife could hear. "Between you and me, I always listen to your mama too, so I'm not entirely sure."

Faye chuckled. "You're both impossible. Get outta my pharmacy!" She swatted at both the men in her life, ushering them out of the pharmacy before she returned to her business. As the two Everett gentlemen exited the room, a family entered the store, two people with a little black girl at their heels. Malcolm rested a hand on his sons shoulder, this time making sure to whisper effectively.

"Lee, would you mind helping those customers? I've gotta go handle some things in my office."

Lee nodded, and got a familial ruffle of the hair for his agreement. Now, Macon was a fairly modern city, and most city folk might not want a small boy looking after a business, but the Everett family and store resided in the smaller part of town, with a bigger population of black folks and in a more suburban area. The people here were a little kinder, a little more understanding.

The older people in the family, presumably the family of the young girl, went to the pharmacy counter and ordered what sounded like some painkillers or some such, easy over-the-counter stuff. Lee watched them, standing proudly at the single check-out area in the store, his height boosted by the multiple phone books he perched on. He watched as the little girl examined the candy section of the store, eventually deciding on a chocolate bar before coming up to the check-out counter. When she saw Lee, arms crossed, looking across the counter at her, her mouth fell open. She glanced from side to side, then leaned in, whispering. "Are you supposed to be back there?"

Lee smirked slightly. "Yup. My parents own this place."

The little girl seemed very impressed. "Really?"

"Yup."

"Cool. Can...can I buy this?" She slid the chocolate bar onto the counter.

Lee sniffled, and with a little pomp, picked the chocolate bar up and examined it. "Hershey's Milk Chocolate, sell by date 10/21/82. Hm." He made a show of looking over his cash register, then back to the girl. "Do you have money?"

The little girl nodded, pulling two quarters out of her pocket and putting them on the counter. Lee took them, pressing more buttons on the cash register than was necessary before finishing the transaction. "Here you go, miss. Your receipt, and twenty cents in change. Have a good day."

The girl, eyes wide, took the small plastic bag offered to her and stepped away from the counter, small fingers tearing into the candy wrapper. Lee thought for a moment, then took off his apron and pulled a chocolate bar off the shelf, unwrapping it at her side. The little girl gasped. "Can you do that?"

Lee took a bite of the chocolate. "Oo 'at?"

The girl gestured to the candy. "Just take candy like that."

Lee swallowed and nodded. "Yup. Well, sometimes. My dad lets me, but I can't do it in front of my mom."

"Oh." A moment passed as they ate their candy in silence. "What's your name?"

"Lee. What's yours?"

"Shanna."

"That's a nice name."

"Thank you." Another few moments passed.

"So," Lee said, wiping some chocolate from his cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"My family's moving here. We're going to live up the street, and be neighbors with my cousins. My mom just got a headache and since we're here we decided to stop off and get some medicine."

"That's cool. I live here, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. My family lives upstairs."

"Cool!"

"I know." Lee smirked slightly. "So, maybe we'll see each other around?"

Before Shanna could answer, her parents called for her. The girl waved goodbye as she ran to her parents side. "See ya, Lee!

"Bye, Shanna!"

* * *

"Goodbye, Shanna."

Lee's voice was cold, emotionless, despite the tightness in his throat and the heat in his eyes. He stared at his wife while the officers cuffed his hands behind his back, his gaze unmet as his once beloved spouse refused to look at him. The officers dragged him away, but Lee continued watching her until the police had pulled him out of the courtroom and he couldn't see her anymore. Once she left his line of sight, his head dropped, his eyes focused on the ground until the courthouse doors swung open, and a cacophony of noise greeted him.

"Mr. Everett!"

"Mr. Everett, people are saying that-"

"-rett, after some push for the electric chair, are you-"

"This is a racist verdict! He wouldn't-"

"Mr. Everett, would you please-"

Cameras flashed all around him, microphones were pressed up to his face until the reporters were ushered away by security. He kept his head down, heat pooling behind his eyes, as he was escorting into the waiting police car, the car door clicking shut beside him and muffling all sound. He didn't look up again until the police car was down the road, and the sounds of reporters far behind them. Only then did he raise his chin and take a look at his surroundings. The police car stayed silent until they were well down the highway, on their way to the prison cell Lee had been sentenced to. Then, Lee's peripheral vision alerted him to the driver adjusted his rear-view mirror.

"Well, I reckon you didn't do it then."

* * *

 **I admit, this chapter was a bit of a surprise. An ever-mysterious "Guest" requested it, so Lee was the next character I planned to write about, but if I'm honest, I'd never even considered writing for Lee before. Since he's the main character, so much of his personality and actions are dictated by the player, and since you see everything from his perspective there's not many "missing scenes" that I can fill in, things that are mentioned but that you never see in-game. So I didn't have much to go on for Lee.**

 **But then, out of nowhere, this idea struck me, and suddenly I was writing it and it wasn't terrible and gee, now my feelings hurt. So I impressed myself with my creativity here, and I hope you got something out of it. In any case, this is proof, _proof_ I say, that I am actively taking requests, so by all means, ask for anything you like. Feel free to challenge me however you like. If there's any character, any character at all that you want me to write about, simply mention them in a review and I'll see what I can do.**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


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